


No one to call, everybody to fear

by erynwen



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erynwen/pseuds/erynwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For kcscribbler's prompt <i>"Twisted version of the Shore Leave(esque, if you're not a TOS-er) planet: instead of what you want to see, the faulty!technology/aliens/heaven-only-knows-what brings to life the crew's worst nightmares instead of daydreams"</i> for the <a href="http://st-plotbunnies.livejournal.com/3265.html">Halloween challenge</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	No one to call, everybody to fear

**Author's Note:**

> No Starfleet officers were harmed in the making of this fic. This is for baka_yu, whom I promised a zombie fic back in July. Title form the lyrics of the song "Nightmare" by Avenged Sevenfold.

No one to call, everybody to fear

 

Heavy feet shuffle over moss-covered ground. Jim’s head snaps up as a pained moan rings through the air. Heavy smell makes Jim’s eyes water as he gets to his feet, frowning.

“Who’s there?” He calls out, his hand reaching down for his phaser. But his fingers don’t hit the plastic hilt as he expected, and when Jim looks down he realizes his weapon is gone.

He turns away from the shuffling noise to look frantically around. His phaser is not lying on the ground, has not just fallen from the holster, and Jim’s frown deepens.

The steps come closer. Jim faces the line of trees again, the smell growing heavier around him, a smell of rotten flesh and blood, of earth and mold. Jim raises his arm, breathes against the fabric of his uniform tunic to dampen the stench.

He’s about to call out again when a hand brakes through the shadows, dirty fingers reaching out, and Jim watches as something emerges from the woods.

It looks humanoid, with a grayish tint to its skin, covered in bruises and torn clothes. Its eyes are glassy, and its lips are drawn back in a snarl, a low growling noise coming from its chest.

Jim takes a step back, his eyes wide as the creature walks on, uttering another moan. Deep down Jim knows he should run away, should not let that thing near him. But he is rooted to the spot, can’t move, can’t think, and he feels his breath stutter as the thing moves on.

He hears a clicking sound, right next to him, and his head snaps around.

Bones is standing next to him, wearing an old, ragged shirt and equally old jeans Jim has last seen at the academy. He holds a shotgun in his hands, a weapon Jim only knows from his history books. Bones’ finger is crooked, pressing against the trigger, and suddenly, a shot rings through the air.

Jim feels the blood spatter his uniform shirt more than he sees it, his eyes again glued on that thing in front of him as it falls to the ground. Most of its head is gone, the ground visible through the hole Bones put through it.

Jim blinks several times, and forces himself to look away.

Bones reaches inside his jeans pockets, extracting shells for the shotgun. His eyes are fixed on the woods, as if he’s waiting for more of the creatures to come out and attack them.

Jim swallows. “Bones, what’s going on?”

Bones doesn’t answer him, doesn’t show any reaction, and deliberately loads the gun without looking away from the trees.

“Bones, what the fuck is wrong? Why are you not in uniform? What are those things?”

Bones still doesn’t answer, tilts his head as if he’s listening, and hoists the gun to his shoulder, a grim look on his face.

“Bones?”

Bones turns to go, shotgun slung over his shoulder, his eyes still steadily scanning the area.

“Bones, wait!” Jim shouts after his friend, and tries to jog up to him, to fall into step with him as he so often does.

But he can’t keep up, feels like he’s running through molasses, and Bones is one step ahead all the time, out of reach, not turning around to make sure that Jim is following him.

+~+

After three years at the academy, and one year into their first mission, Leonard still hates shuttle rides. He’s not happy with beaming either, but if he has to choose between his molecules being torn apart and re-assembled in the time it takes him to take a breath, and being on board of one of those flying sardine cans, he happily jumps onto the transporter pad at any given time.

But the damn record he still had to write had kept him from going planet side with Jim, and when he finally was ready to go, Scotty informed Leonard in as many polysyllabic words he could find that the transporter was not working safely, and he had to get to the planet by shuttle.

Leonard almost referred from going down at all, if it hadn’t been for that part of him that longed actual sunshine, non-replicated air and grass to sit on. It had been a long time since he had set foot on a planet, and damn him if he didn’t take the chance if he got one.

As the shuttle slowly enters the planet’s atmosphere, Leonard tries not to think of the million things that could happen, tries not to imagine the horrible death he could die any second. He swallows around a fear he tries to tell himself is absolutely irrational.

The shuttle descends further, Rodriguez next to him babbling about how beautiful the planet looks from this high, how he looks forward to take some samples from the local plants. Leonard forces himself to look out of the window, to watch the ground come closer, to control his breathing.

There is a soft rattle, a bump, and Leonard clenches his fingers into the armrest of his chair, swallows bile that is rising in his throat.

Another bump, and suddenly, the shuttle starts shaking, and he hears Rodriguez cursing under his breath.

“What? What is it?” Leonard’s asks with a shaking voice.

“I don’t know. The bloody controls aren’t working any more.” Rodriguez sounds way too panicky for Leonard’s taste.

“What do you mean, not working?”

As in answer the shuttle tilts to the left, and Leonard is almost lifted from his seat.

They’re descending faster now, the ground getting closer, looking more uninviting by the second, and Leonard almost whishes Jim was here to tell him that Leonard had been right all along.

These things are not safe.

The shuttle is shaking heavily now, turning around its own axis over and over again, and it’s all Leonard can do to hold on to his seat.

Something makes him look outside the window again, and as he can almost tell every blade of grass apart, he thinks one last thing before the shuttle hits the earth with shattering force.

Dammit.

+~+

Rodriguez looks out of the shuttle window, his eyes roaming the grass and purple flowers right in front of the window. He feels like a kid on Christmas morning, about to open his first present.

He looks around at McCoy, worried at the sudden silence from the man.

The doctor has gone rigid in his chair, fingers clawing to the armrest, knuckles turning white.

Rodriguez frowns, and shakes the other man.

“Doctor McCoy?”

He gets a growl for an answer, and lowers his hand. Must be the aviophobia getting to the poor man, he thinks as he turns around again, mouth almost watering at the sight in front of him.

“Listen, I’m just outside, having a look around. You ok with that?”

Another growl. Rodriguez takes it as a yes, and heads out of the door. He’s not going far, just having a quick walk around the shuttle. He will still be able to see and hear McCoy most of the time. It’s not like the guy is dying, right?

The grass smells incredible as Rodriguez opens the door, and he crouches down, reaching down to run his hand through it, feeling the texture under his fingers.

As he straightens again, a cloud shifts in front of the sun, casting him in shadows. He shivers slightly, rubbing his hands over his arms.

He hears a low grumble, not from the shuttle, but from behind him, and the hair at the back of his neck stands on end as he turns around.

A huge, hairy, four legged creature stands on the grass, its paws flexing, its nostrils flaring.

Rodriguez’s scanner hits the ground with a clatter as he turns around and runs, the beauty of the planet forgotten as a scream erupts from his lungs.

+~+

Jim is still running, eyes fixed on the back of his friend, trying to reach him, to grab his shoulders and turn him around. To get answers, to get him to talk. Bones silence is frightening him more than the creature they left behind.

He stumbles over a root, looses his balance, and falls to the ground, arms flailing. He tries to cry out, but his voice catches in his throat, and he lets out a wordless cry as his knees hit the ground.

Bones walks on, never turning around, shotgun pointing to heaven, his head tilted like he is still listening for something.

Jim scrambles to his feet again, brushes moss from his pants.

It’s when he starts walking again, that he hears it – a moan, similar to the one he heard before when that creature emerged the woods.

He walks on, wishing he had his phaser on him, and there it is again. And again, a chorus of moans suddenly emerging form the dark around him.

It’s more than one creature, somewhere in the shadows, closing in. Jim can almost feel their hands on him, can almost smell them. He wants to tell Bones, but his voice is still gone, and Bones is still too far away to grab him.

Then one of those things breaks through the bushes, arms raised in front of it, teeth bared.

Bones swivels around, shotgun pointing at the creature in a blink of an eye, but he doesn’t see the other creature behind him, slouching closer.

Jim cries out, but no sounds leaves his mouth, and then there’s a third one, and as Jim starts running, they’re closing in on Bones, fingers grabbing for his clothes, for his skin.

Bones fights them as good as he can, fists flying, the hilt of the shotgun hitting one of the creatures in the face, his feet kicking out. But it’s not enough, the creatures are too strong, relentlessly closing in, tearing at Bones’ skin, and one of them opens its mouth, slams its teeth into Bones’ neck.

Jim’s lips form the word “NO!” He’s reaching out for his friend as Bones is buried in a heap of bodies tearing at him.

He feels tears burning in his eyes, and he starts trembling, fingers clenching into fists as he rushes to his friend’s side.  
Bones is lying on the ground, bits of flesh torn from his face, his arms, his legs. Jims hangs his head, sobbing silently. Somehow he knows that he is too late, that he can’t help Bones anymore.

He starts to walk away when there is a hand on his ankle. He stumbles again, twisting around as he falls to see Bones clenching at his leg, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.

Jim starts struggling, tries to kick, to slap, but it’s no good, strong fingers pinning him down as Bones climbs up his body, snarling and dripping blood all over his uniform.

Bones’ face hovers over his own, and Jim finds himself staring into bloodshot hazel eyes. He swallows as Bones bends down, teeth biting down on his neck.

+~+

When Leonard wakes up, his hands automatically reach for his tricoder, and he’s scanning himself even before his eyes are fully open, blinking at the display several times to read that he is alright.

He turns his head. Debris of the shuttle lies scattered all over the meadow, and Leonard coughs as smoke fills his lungs. He can’t see Rodriguez anywhere.

Leonard sits up, wraps his arms around his drawn up legs, ignoring his protesting muscles.

He’s about to get up and look for his pilot when he sees something out of the corner of his eye.

Leonard turns his head, and his heart skips a beat.

Jim is lying on the ground, blood from a big cut on his forehead seeping over his face.

Leonard is on his feet and next to Jim, his fingers going for Jim’s pulse point on his neck.

He can’t feel anything. Leonard feels the air leave his body as he reaches for his tricoder, scanning his best friend, hoping against hope that for once, he’d been wrong.

The tricoder beeps and whirrs, processing the message that Leonard blinks at when it’s displayed.

Leonard shakes the device, slaps it against his leg. Turns it off and on again, and even curses it, but the words on the display remain the same.

No vital signs detected.

Leonard cries out as he cradles Jim’s lifeless form in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he brushes Jim’s hair from his forehead.

+~+

Rodriguez is running, running as fast as he can, running for his life. He can hear the creature behind him, growling and snapping, huge paws hitting the ground.

Rodriguez speeds up, rounding a corner, his feet hitting the ground with a force that starts hurting in his ankles, but he can’t stop, can’t take a breath, not now, not when this thing is behind him.

His eyes are fixed on the horizon, searching for somewhere to hide, a cave, a house, anything. He considers climbing up a tree, but the branches are too high, so he runs past the trees, runs past a lake.

It’s when he finally sees a hut, standing on a meadow just like that, and he feels relief washing over him, that his foot catches on a rock, and he falls to the ground.

He rolls over just to see the beast approaching, teeth already bared. Rodriguez screams as it jumps him, heavy claws already ripping away his skin.

+~+

 _Captains Log, Stardate 2259.26_

“Standard scans and environmental checks are still inconclusive as to what caused the condition the landing party’s been found in by Spock yesterday. We still think that something led all of us to experience bad dreams. We are still lucky that Spock got us back onto the Enterprise before our accelerated heart rate could lead to severe damage. Since we don’t know if those dreams are caused by something in the air, we would advise future exploring of the planet in space suits only.

Doctor McCoy has cleared all members for duty, and there are not going to be any aftereffects according to him”. Jim cuts the recording with a sigh.

“Well, apart from the nightmares, I guess.” he mumbles as he massages his temples.

+~+

Teeth tear at his flesh, fingers dig into his shoulders, holding him down. Jim tries to get free, but he’s too weak, and his vision goes darker as the teeth dug into his flesh, again and again and…  
Jim jerks awake, panting as he tries not to scream. His hand comes up to his neck, searching for bite marks, for blood. Rubbing his hand over unscathed flesh, Jim orders the computer to turn on the lights, his voice shaking.

His quarters are empty, too empty, and suddenly Jim can’t stay in here any longer.

He doesn’t give the people he passes on the corridor much thought. He’s the captain, and he can walk around in his PJs anytime he damn wants.

Jim stops in front of a door, considers for a moment to use his override code to walk inside, and then remembers that it is the middle of Delta Shift.

He listens to the chime sounding through the room behind the door, hears a muffled curse and shuffling feet before the door opens for him.

Bones looks like Jim feels, dark shadows under his eyes giving away that the doctor had a short night, too.

“Hey Bones. Couldn’t sleep. Do you mind?”

Bones doesn’t answer, only steps aside to let Jim through the door. Jim slumps into a chair and smiles gratefully as Bones hands him a glass of bourbon.

They don’t talk much, sip their drinks in silence.

When Jim finally falls asleep, it’s with Bones lying next to him on the bed , Bones’ arm wrapped around his chest, Bones’ breath ghosting over the skin of his neck.

And if Jim has another nightmare, he doesn’t remember it when he wakes up.


End file.
